Of Drunken Kicks and Jealous Fits
by SweetWillowTree
Summary: VDay Exchange for LiveLaughDreamInspire. A drunken Elena proposes a road trip, but she has no idea that Damon's going to make it hell on her. Rated M for sexual content.


**A/N: VDay Exchange response for LiveLaughDreamInspire. Gave me a hell of a time, so I apologize if it feels different from my usual stuff. Here's the prompt:**

**Pairing: Damon & Elena**  
><strong>Rating T or M<strong>  
><strong>Prompt: Elena being upset about everything that's going on with Stefan or Jeremy leaving (or some other problem) takes refuge at the bar. Damon finds a clearly drunken Elena and decides to give her the vacation he thinks she needs.<strong>

**ROADTRIP TIME! (Delena road-trips are always the best)**  
><strong>The location is up to you, they can stay overnight somewhere in a hotel, anything.<strong>

**Bonus points if you make Elena confess her true feelings for Damon and/or make one of them get jealous.**

**Shameless self-promotion: Twitter - SweetWillowTree**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Vampire Diaries.**

* * *

><p>A loud slamming jolts me from my extremely comfortable position, slumped across the bar, one arm cushioning my head. I can't believe how great I'm feeling right now! But you know what would be better?<p>

"More tequila!" I declare to the bartender, hauling my head back up to look around.

Everything's blurry: The shot glass placed in front of me. The bottles lining the bar. Damon's blue eyes glaring at me from -

Oh crap.

"Hey Damon!" I coo, smiling at him and reaching over to place my hand on his shoulder.

Unfortunately, the world chooses that exact moment to tilt, and I fall to the side, right into Damon's lightening-quick embrace.

"What the hell, Elena?" he grumbles, holding at arms length.

"What? Nothing... What the hell with you, you – you – you – blue-eyed person!"

It's not my fault I just said that. Everything is fading in and out, but his eyes are glowing. Like freaking Christmas lights!

He cocks an eyebrow and his face relaxes. I'm pretty sure he just giggled. No, wait – What's the male equivalent of giggling?

"'Blue-eyed person?'"

"Snickers," I mumble. Is that the word I was looking for?

"What?" he exclaims.

"Chuckles!" That has to be right.

He's frowning now. I hate it when he frowns; it makes me want to kiss away the lines on his -

Whoa! Earth-tilt again.

"Did you just call me Chuckles?" he asks, narrowing his eyes and holding me a little tighter.

Somehow, he gets to keep his balance, while gravity seems to want me flat on my back.

Ha! So does Damon.

"Psh... No! I was just... thinking."

His glowing blue eyes roll in exasperation, and he throws his arm over my shoulder, grabbing my jacket and walking me out of the bar.

"Wait! Where are we going?" I enquire expectantly. He always takes me to the good places.

We stop on the sidewalk, which kind of feels like quicksand, so I have to keep moving my feet, or else I'll get sucked into the dark.

"You're drunk," he points out, ducking his head to make eye contact.

I hold up my thumb and pointer finger. "Just a little." Deja vu sweeps over me. It's like that time when... "Hey! Do you remember when I said that you were drunk, and you told me that you were just a little, and then you killed my little brother?"

Some girl walking by turns to look at us, but I make some kind of face at her, and she keeps moving.

"Oh Jesus," Damon sighs, turning away to lead me to his car now.

"Wouldn't it be weird if I, like, accidentally killed your little brother. Actually, that would suck, because you would miss him, and I would miss him, and he was really good in – HEY!"

The door slams before I can finish my thought process. Or, wait, was I saying all that out loud? Damon gets in on his side, and he looks furious. What was I saying that could get him so mad?

"Are you upset with me?" I ask, quietly.

Damon sighs and rubs his eyes. He looks kind of old. Okay, not old. Mature maybe? Weathered? He seems exhausted.

"No, Elena. I'm just – Wait!" His head pops up and he looks straight at me. "Yes, I am upset with you. What the hell are you doing, just getting trashed at the bar. You could have stumbled into the street and gotten killed! You could have been kidnapped! Or what if one of the Originals came after you, huh?"

"You drink all the time," I point out.

"I'm a vampire, and also not a high school girl. Why are you doing this? What's wrong?"

I'm ready to go on some rant about how I'm eighteen now, and I don't need a babysitter, but somehow, that isn't what comes out. What comes out is wracking sob, and before I know it, I've crawled into Damon's lap and am crying into his shoulder.

"We suck!" I wail. "Both of us have lost our little brothers! I don't want to lose our little brothers, Damon! Jeremy cut off a head for me, and Stefan sacrificed himself for you! What if we never get them back?"

It's kind of surprising how great Damon is at dealing with me like this. He just wraps his arms around me, and rocks me, and whispers nice things into my ear. We sit like that for a long time until I start to doze in his arms.

"Elena," he breathes, waking me.

I lift my head a smile a little at him, placing a gentle kiss on his lips.

"Thank you," I say shyly, shuffling back into my own seat. Once I've collected my wits, I look over at him and grin. "You know what we should do?"

He gives me a look that tells me he can think of a million things we _could_ do, but he keeps his mouth shut.

"We should go on a road trip. Road trips make you happy."

"No," he drawls, but he's turning the ignition anyway. "Road trips make _you_ happy."

"Good point. But you're always happy when I'm happy." I recline my seat a little to lay back, and close my eyes. "Why is that anyway?"

"Because I love you," he states.

"Oh yeah," I yawn, reaching around to find his free hand and lace our fingers together. "That's nice. I always... forget to tell you..."

And I don't really know what I mean to say after that.

* * *

><p>Every. Single. Inch. Of. Me. Hurts.<p>

And I would open my eyes, except I can already tell that it's really bright, wherever I am, and I don't want to risk burning out my retinas.

There's a car alarm going off. I kind of want to die.

I shift a little so I'm laying on my back, and with a jolt of recognition, I realize that I'm in Damon's car. That sonofabitch kidnapped me! Again! I sit up suddenly, my eyes popping open, and I let out a long moan when, of course, the sunlight sets my brain on fire.

There's a knock from my left, the car door opens, and Damon slides in.

"Morning, beautiful. Coffee? Aspirin?"

"Death," I rasp.

My voice is shockingly raw. What the fuck did I – Oh yes, the bar.

Damon lets out a bark of laughter, and I fantasize about disemboweling him.

"Vampire blood works wonders for hangovers. Just an FYI." I glare at him, noting that we're parked outside of a rest stop. And that's when I notice that...

"Th-th-th-there's snow outside, Damon!" He nods, smirking. "Where the hell are we? Why is there snow?"

"Because we're almost in Canada, and it's February."

Almost. In. Canada.

I can't even say anything. My mouth is hanging open and I just stare at him, hoping that he'll take it all back and bring me back home.

"What do you even remember from last night?" he asks.

"Um... Three tequila shots." I nod at myself, frowning, trying to remember what happened after that.

"Well, there were at least nine more after that." I groan and Damon's takes my hand. When I look at him again, his eyes are surprisingly tender. "Do you want to talk about Jeremy?"

Oh yes. Jeremy had called, and I had gotten all worked up, and then I'd gone to the bar and flirted my way into a bottle of tequila. Smooth, Gilbert. Real smooth.

"Not particularly. Look, Damon, I just really want to go home."

There's a flash of hurt across his face, but he replaces it quickly with his standard sexy grin.

"But this was your idea. Road trip and all..."

He spends the next ten minutes trying to convince me to keep going with him, while I sip on my coffee and down two aspirin. He even pulls a spare pair of sunglasses out of his pocket and offers them to me as a bribe. He's so cute by the end of it, pouting and stroking the back of my hand, I could just die.

When did I start sort of acknowledging this thing with Damon, anyway? Cute? I'm supposed to be ignoring all that like a boss.

"Fine," I whine. "We'll go wherever you want, but just be gentle with the music. My head still hurts."

With a triumphant expression, we peel out of the parking lot, fishtailing onto the slippery road and making me scream. He spends the next little while teasing me, and swerving deliberately. He should be glad I'm not puker, otherwise the interior of his precious car would be trashed.

We're getting along just fine until my phone rings. It's Stefan.

"Uh... Hello?"

Damon glances over, frowning at my tone. He's not gonna be happy when he realizes who's on the line.

"_Elena, where are you?_" Stefan asks as though I'm a small child, and he's tired of dealing my shenanigans.

The car swerves, and I know for sure that it's an accident this time. When I look over, Damon's staring out the windshield, knuckles white on the steering wheel.

"I'm with Damon."

A sigh. "_I'm aware of that. Where are the two of you? You aren't safe._"

My stomach clenches and – oh – there's the hangover nausea.

"What do you mean I'm not safe? What's going on?"

"_You aren't safe with Damon,_" he specifies. "_What are you two doing?_"

"As opposed to being safe with you? Do you remember when you almost tore my throat out? Or maybe when you almost drove me off a bridge? Damon and I are fine; we'll be back soon. Bye."

I angrily disconnect the call, tossing my phone into the backseat and sinking lower, crossing my arms over my chest.

"So what does baby brother want?" Damon pries, as though he hadn't heard the entirety of the conversation.

"He's just checking in, making sure we're okay."

"No, he's making sure _you're_ okay. You know, he really should stop being such a dick about you."

His voice sounds surprisingly bitter, and I flinch, both at his words and his tone.

"What do you mean by that?" I ask suspiciously, a little offended at his suggestion.

"Well, he was going on and on about how he doesn't care about you, or anyone, anymore, and how he doesn't want to be with you. Then he finds out that we kissed, and all of the sudden he's Mr. Overprotective Boyfriend again. He needs to grow up."

Ouch. That one stings.

"And you don't think that maybe he does still love me, and he's just trying to figure out how all this works?" A muscle in Damon's jaw ticks, but he doesn't say anything. "It doesn't make a difference, anyway." I mumble the last bit, staring at my hands.

"It makes all the difference in the world, Elena. It means that you won't ever be able to move on. He keeps hurting you, being distant, pulling you back in. It's not good for you. You should be able to see that."

"I do," I insist, but Damon scoffs. "Fine, think what you want. I don't even care."

Except that I do.

* * *

><p>We drive for hours in tense silence. The boundaries between Damon and I keep blurring and changing, and I can't keep track of where we are anymore. I don't want to admit that he's right about Stefan, but he is. And what's worse is that the game that Stefan is playing with me is eerily similar to what I'm doing with Damon.<p>

Hurting him – being distant – pulling him back in.

I'm an emotional Ripper. Awesome.

And just as I'm about to apologize, I see a car pulled over on the side of the road. Damon slows to a stop, pulling over behind the red Sunfire.

"Stay here," he grunts,

He leaves no room for argument as he slips out and crunches his way over to the car. A woman steps out of the drivers side and she and Damon talk. It looks like she has a flat tire, but her cell phone has no reception. I can tell from their body language that they've gone from polite conversation to something a little more personal.

Even from here, I know Damon's flirting face way too well.

After a disturbingly long time, the pair turn back to the car, heading straight for my door.

"Elena," Damon drawls, doing that stupid eye thing as he ducks in through my now-open door. "Would you mind moving into the back seat. I've offered Lynn here a ride to the next town so she can wait for a tow truck."

Are you fucking kidding me? He's trying to shuffle me into the back seat so he can flirt with this roadside tramp?

I glare at him for a moment before _Lynn_ interrupts our silent argument.

"Oh, Damon. You don't have to move your sister to the back. I'm perfectly fine sitting there."

His what? Did she just refer to me as his _sister_? My eyes widen and my glare intensifies, and Damon at least looks shamed for split-second before motioning with his hand for me to get out. I swallow a snarl as I step out and shove past him.

"I'm not his sister," I snap as I move back.

"More like a sister-in-law," Damon continues. "My little brother's girl and all."

Little. Brother's. Girl.

The other two get in and soon enough, we're on our way, coasting back along the snow-covered highway. Damon and Lynn chat and flirt, and it only takes a few minutes for me to decide to listen to my iPod instead. I know what Damon's doing; he's trying to make me jealous.

And he's succeeding.

* * *

><p>It's another half hour before we get to the next small town, although that could be because Damon was practically crawling the whole way. He pulls into a restaurant on the main strip and crosses around the car to open Lynn's door. I climb out after her and am following the pair into the building for a whole three seconds before I realize that I really don't want to eat with them.<p>

I look up and realize that Damon isn't even looking to see where I am, so with a sigh, I turn on my heel and make my way down the street. I'm not going very far; it's kind of impossible to go very far in this town, but I just need some air. Yeah, that's my excuse: I need air. It isn't the fact that watching Damon fawn over this woman is making me sick to my stomach.

We've been apart ten minutes when my phone rings, and I answer without looking at screen. I already know who it is.

"Hello Damon."

"_Elena, where the hell are you?_" he hisses.

"I'm just taking a walk. I figured you could use some alone time with Lynn without your 'little brother's girl' cramping your style."

"_Okay... I get it... You're jealous. I'll cool it with Lynn, but will you just get back here?_"

A break out with bitter laughter. "I am _not_ jealous. And I'm not coming back until her tow truck comes, and we get back on the road."

He growls over the line, and not just a normal growl. No, this is a pissed off vampire growl.

"_Fine. But when you get kidnapped and murdered, it's not my fault._"

"K, bye."

We both stay on the line, silently, until I hear Lynn's voice in the background and with a dismissive sound, I hang up on him.

* * *

><p>I wander the streets for another two hours. Luckily Damon had had the foresight to buy me a thick coat, mittens, a scarf and a wool hat. It isn't until the sun begins to the set that I can feel the chill in my bones, and I make my way back toward the restaurant, grumbling the whole way about how long it was taking him to get back to me.<p>

And just as I'm about to call him, I spot his car. Parked in the parking lot of a strip club.

Yeah, somehow, in the middle of nowhere in the town with the population of 647 people, there is a strip club.

I'm frozen for an entire minute, paralysed by rage. As if picking up some woman on the side of the road wasn't bad enough, but now that she's gone, he goes to find _other_ women?

Without even thinking about the fact that I'm underage, starving, emotionally exhausted, and frozen to the bone, I storm into the tiny bar, right past the snoozing bouncer. Like radar, I find him immediately, my eyes narrowing on his head of messy hair, sitting at a table next to the runway, sipping his customary glass of bourbon.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" I hiss violently, slapping him upside the head. "You just let me wander around out there for hours while you did God knows what with that girl?"

"I figured that you'd call when your bad temper blew over," he answers casually, his eyes on the half-naked girl dancing on the stage to the song 'Crazy Bitch'.

"Damon!" I yell, startling the other two patrons and waking the bouncer. Blue eyes slide over to meet mine, challenging me. "I can't even – God! Where is this coming from? Why are you being like this?"

Eyeing the approaching bouncer, Damon downs the rest of his bourbon in one swallow and stands, throwing a wad of cash on the stage, and reaching for my elbow. I yank my arm away and stomp ahead of him and out the door.

"How about you calm the hell down for a second, Elena. You'll burst a blood vessel."

His tone is so nonchalant, compared to my extreme irritation, I can't even handle it. With both hands, I push him back against the side of the building, and to my surprise, he actually stumbles into the brick wall.

"Why – Why – Why -?" I stutter, but Damon interrupts me.

"Why – Why – Why are you so goddamn upset?"

"Because you ditched me!" I shriek. "You ditched me for some ho because you wanted to – I don't know – feed from her and sleep with her or something."

I'm mumbling by the end of it, suddenly self-conscious about just why I'm so upset. I'm not pissed because he ditched me; he was right. I'm jealous. I'm so jealous I can't even see straight.

"I didn't eat her – in any sense of the word – we waited for her tow truck, and then I came here."

He slips his fingers under my chin and tips my face up to meet his eyes. He truly does look remorseful, and it only serves to break my heart more. He hasn't been the cause of the problem – I have. From to moment I met him, I have been nothing but problematic for him.

"God, we're such a mess!" I breathe, covering my face with my hands as my eyes tear up.

Damon's arms wrap around me, and I'm pressed into his chest, inhaling the leather smell of his jacket. The sky is dark, and I can feel soft snowflakes on my skin, along with Damon's lips in my hair.

"We really are," he admits quietly, holding me tighter.

I unclench my fists and pull away from him, reaching up to press my mitten-covered palms to his cheeks and jaw. His hands come up to cover mine, either for support or to hold me in one place before I can run away again, I'm not entirely sure.

"I'm sorry," I say in a watery voice. "You make me crazy, did you know that?" I growl and bring his forehead down to mine. "I'm literally losing my mind over you."

"But...?" he proposes and waits.

But? But what? There is no 'but' here; I actually mean what I'm saying.

"Damon," I whisper. My thumbs stroke his cheekbones and I kiss his lips lightly.

"What do you forget to tell me?" he blurts out.

I'm confused. I have no idea what he's talking about. Turns out, I'm not the only crazy one, but I think I already knew that.

"I have no idea what you're saying," I answer, pulling away a little.

He licks his lips. Oh ho, I'm going to lick his lips really soon.

"Before we keep going, Elena, I just really need to know."

I see something I never thought I'd ever witness. Damon Salvatore, completely raw before me. No walls; no defensiveness; just him.

I'm still staring at him though, because I still have no clue what he's referring to. No, that's not true; I kind of do have an idea, but I want to be sure.

"Last night, before we left, you kissed me. And I told you I love you. And you said that you always forget to say that... Something. You passed out before you could finish." He reverses our hold so his hands are cupping my face. "What were you going to say?"

It would be really bad if I started laughing right now. But I almost can't help it. What I probably would have said was that I always forget to say how nice, how comforting it is that he loves me. That isn't what he wants to hear, and that's fine, because it isn't what I'm going to say.

"I love that you love me, Damon. I never want you to stop. I want to be yours, and I want you to be mine. But what you want me to say, right now, the actual words? I can't."

His shoulders slump, and he looks like he might collapse. So I hurry to continue, because I'm far from finished with him yet.

"It won't mean enough if I say it now, while everything is up in the air. When I say it, Damon, it'll be real, and not just because I want to fuck you up against the wall."

... Did I just say that out loud?

"Oh, is that it?" he teases, his eyes bright with mischief. He pulls me in again, leaning against the wall and tipping his head back. "Well, go ahead, the stage is yours."

His submission, after over a year of him pushing me and pushing me, sets something off, and I can't help but dart forward, pressing myself against him, kissing his lips hard before moving down along his neck. He's surprisingly warm considering how cold it is out here. His hands sneak up and under my shirt, squeezing and kneading his way up my sides to the lace of my bra. When he reaches around to the release the clasp, I whimper. When his hands slip under my bra to thumb my nipples, I gasp.

My mittens come off, dropping to the snow next to us, and I quickly move to fumble with his belt buckle. I've just gotten that part undone when a door slams open a few feet over from us. I jump back with a small scream, looking over to realize that we're next to loading door where two strippers have come out to smoke. Or, rather, they've come out to witness me grinding all up on Damon like a cat in heat.

"You go girl!" one of them hollers, and I'm fairly certain she had been the one dancing when I'd first stormed in.

"Oh my God!" I groan, and not even in the good way.

I'm kind of surprised that Damon hasn't said anything yet, but when I look at him, I can see why he's so silent. I looks thoroughly deflowered, if one can imagine him ever having been 'flowered', with purple marks on his neck, swollen lips, hazy eyes, and his belt hanging open.

"You weren't kidding about fucking me against the wall," he says in a tone of disbelief.

I blush and duck my head, self-consciously playing with the zipper of my coat before zipping it up.

"Damon, we can't -"

"No!" he blurts. "No, we can!" He grabs my hands and pulls me back against his chest, nuzzling into my neck. "There's a good chance I'll explode if we don't actually follow through on this for once!"

I start giggling at his complete misunderstanding of my current intentions.

"Damon." I push him back a little, but he's awfully intent on making love to my neck. "Damon, I wasn't going to say that we can't ever. I'm not even against the idea of the wall, just maybe not this particular one." He pulls back to look at me, frowning in bemusement. "I'm so cold I can't feel my feet," I finally confess, pointing at my soaking running shoes.

His eyes widen in understanding before locking in on something just over my shoulder.

"Well that's perfect," he states, jutting his chin out to whatever it is he's looking at.

I turn and notice for the first time that there's a motel right next to the strip club. It shouldn't really be shocking, considering the size of the town. But I'm a little surprised that I hadn't noticed it before. It's almost as though it appeared out of the thin air.

"Do you have magic powers aside from the vampire stuff?" I ask innocently, taking Damon's hand and walking toward the motel.

"You mean like the power to fix circumstances so I can get laid, anytime, anyplace?" I elbow him a little. "What can I say? It's a gift," he concludes nonchalantly.

"You're lucky I want you so damn bad right now," I pout, "Or else I'd totally withhold just to deflate that ego a little."

He doesn't say anything, but I see the lust flare up in his eyes again at my admission. He pulls me in again as we continue walking, our lips meeting and working, tongues thrusting and dancing. There's a bell ringing as we stumble, still interlocked, through the door of the motel office, and I know that we should probably just hold this thought until we're alone, but for some reason, I can't peel myself away.

Until the clerk clears his throat.

We separate with a comical popping sound, and although I try to put at least three feet of distance between myself and Damon, the vampire in question is having none of that. His arms lock around my waist, holding me in front of him as he converses with the clerk.

"One room please," he says in a casual voice, as though the teenager behind the counter hadn't just witnessed us practically in full-blown foreplay.

"For the hour, or the whole night?" the boy teases.

Before Damon can answer, I turn to look at him, cutting him off.

"Where are you taking me anyway? Should we just pick back up in the morning?"

"Nah," he shrugs, "I think we found what we were looking for anyway." He winks and looks back up at the boy. "The night please."

The clerk very kindly rushes through the paperwork, clearly sympathetic to our current state. He hands Damon a key for the room furthest from the office, pointing out that we're the only guests at the moment.

"So... Y'know... You can..." He drifts off, flushing bright red, and though Damon clearly wants to extend the boy's embarrassment, I manage to shove him out the office door toward our room.

I'm slammed into the cheap siding of the motel building as soon as we're outside, Damon's lips demanding on mine again. I push back a little, so we do, at least, have some forward momentum, shuffling along the snow-covered sidewalk to our room. I can't decide what to do with my hands; they're everywhere! On his chest, in his hair, behind his back, hooked into the belt loops of his jeans. He pulls away suddenly, lifting me up so I'm forced to wrap my legs around his waist (not that I'm complaining), and he presses me against the door, continuing our embrace as he thrusts the key into the knob and turns.

We're into the surprisingly warm room in less than a heartbeat, and I'm up against the wall behind the door, Damon's mouth insistent on my neck, my hands working quick to rid him of his jacket and t-shirt. When that's done, he backs away from the wall, eliciting a groan from me as I kind of liked feeling him pressed up between my legs.

At this rate, I doubt we'll even make it to the bed. And I really don't care.

He drops me on the dresser, pulling off my jacket before fingering my scarf.

"What?" I gasp into his mouth.

"Nothing," he rasps, finally unwrapping the wool and throwing it over his shoulder. "Just imagine everything we can do with that."

... There is something very appealing about that suggestion.

"Later," I sigh, pulling off my t-shirt and bra.

"Later," he agrees, latching his lips to mine again.

His hands are deftly pulling off my wet shoes and socks, rubbing my feet to try and warm them up. It doesn't matter; nothing matters right now except feeling every delicious inch of his skin against mine. As though he can read my mind, he begins to slide down, kissing along my collarbone and sucking on each of my nipples. I cry out and feel the floodgates open; my core is throbbing so hard I could scream.

"Damon... I need..."

He cuts me off when he swiftly drops to his knees, yanking off my jeans and panties, leaving me completely bare and flushed and _gawd_ so ready for him. Before I can urge him on again, his face is buried between my legs, tongue lapping at me so perfectly, I might just melt right now. He sucks hard on my clit, and I knit my fingers into his hair, holding him close. His tongue dips inside of me _and I can't see_. Again, he thrusts the wet muscle in and out, but it isn't enough...

"God! Damon, I need you... I need you to..."

With a huge reserve of resistance and strength, I manage to push him away, slipping off the dresser and straddling him, pushing him so he's laying down on his back. Repeating his motions from earlier, I peel off his jeans, and to my absolute non-surprise, find that he's wearing nothing underneath.

Shocking.

And now, something weird happens to me. Looking down on him, naked and reaching for me, hair mussed from my fingers, lips and neck red and swollen from my ministrations, I realize that I'm still awfully bitter about him ditching me. He's mine, after all. I mean, I know that I don't really have a claim on him (but give me half an hour and that sure as hell is gonna change), but he loves me, and I... have serious loving feelings for him that are only getting more intense with each passing day. How dare he go out of his way to make me jealous?

Well then, let's just blow that thought right out of his head, shall we? (Best. Innuendo. Ever.)

I duck my head down and take him into my mouth, swirling my tongue around his head and moaning. His hips jerk upward, and I cough lightly before getting into the rhythm, bobbing my head, sucking and laving his member, loving the fact that he's alternately cursing my name and praying for mercy.

And just as I feel him start to tighten up, he pulls me off of him, rolling me onto my back and hovering over me, his eyes dark.

"Well no one's ever stopped me before," I grumble just before he kisses me.

"The first time I come inside of you," he growls, and hey, that melting feeling is back, "Will not be in your mouth." I feel his fingers wandering down my side, my thigh, between my – OH! "It'll be here," he finishes, slowly thrusting his fingers in and out.

"More!" I beg, feeling him grin against my lips and move his hand faster. "No... Damon, not – I want you."

"You have me," he answers in a husky tone, and I know that he doesn't just mean his body. There's some serious subtext going on here. "Be more specific."

What? I can't even think the words without blushing!

He slows his fingers down in retribution, making me squirm in search for more friction.

"Fine!" I exclaim wantonly. "Damon I want your cock inside of me! I want you to come inside of – AH!"

He's pushed his length into my tight entrance before I even finish my sentence and I'm blinded, again. Yeah, he's _that_ good.

"Any more doubts about how perfect we are together?" he grunts.

I shake my head, and he thrusts back in. I scream in pleasure.

"You still think Stefan's good in -?"

"Who's Stefan?" I whimper, and this seems to be the exact right thing to say because he's kissing me again, driving deeper and deeper.

I can feel my entire back rubbing hard against the carpet, and I know it's gonna suck in the morning, but it's totally worth it for this feeling, this all-encompassing, mind blowing, burning, inflating, perfect feeling of being joined to Damon.

It kind of feels the same as when we look at each other, and forget to speak, and communicate just with our eyes. Only take that, and multiply it by about a million, and we're just scratching the surface.

I want to _know _him. I want to know what he thinks and feels and why he does what he does. And I know that that's going to be a long time coming, but there is something I can explore right now.

"Damon stop," I breathe.

He slows a little, but is staring at me in borderline shock.

"You're joking, right? It's a little late to be turning back now."

"I'm not asking you to get out of me -" I shudder at those words. He's inside of me, right now. Ah! It feels so right! "- I'm just asking you to pause for a second."

He gives one last hard thrust and then halts all movement. He's glaring at me, clearly confused and a little frustrated.

"If my balls fall off because of -"

I silence him with a tender kiss, cupping his face and pulling him closer, somehow. When I release him, I look down between our bodies to where we're joined, then scan up. His abs are contracting with every panting breath, his chest rising and falling. There's sweat coating his entire body, and when my hands stroke his back, I can feel it pooling along the dip of his spine.

And throughout my entire examination of him, his eyes have not left mine once.

"You don't want to look at me?" I whisper, a little offended.

"I don't need your body," he clarifies, "I need your soul."

"Oh God," I whimper, falling back and moving my hips, wrapping one leg around Damon's back to force him to move again.

He does, but we're less frantic now. We're still writhing hard and fast against each other, but we're moving deeper, more deliberately. Our fingers are laced together; he's pinning me down. We're kissing, licking, sucking, biting at every part we can reach, and I know that the walk of shame back into Mystic Falls is gonna be epic, considering how roughed up I'll probably be. The only thing that could make it more obvious what we've been doing is...

"Are you going to bite me?" I ask, my voice coming out weaker than it should have.

"Only if you beg for it," he grunts, winking at me before going back to suck on my earlobe.

Only if I beg for it? I feel my insides flutter as I ponder exactly what _that_ means. I feel Damon smirk; he knows exactly what his comment has just done to me.

"You're close," he states.

I can't answer, but I think from the moaning and the sharp cries and the intermittent screams, he's getting the point.

"Let go," he breathes into my ear. "I'm right there too. Just let go."

My eyes close and my body bends and bows with the strength of the pleasure coursing through my veins. I can't hear anything anymore above my own heartbeat, but I know I must be screaming as finally, I feel my entire body coil tighter and tighter and explode.

Damon collapses around me, dropping to my side and rolling us so I'm laying on top of him. I press my ear to his chest, listening to his dead heart pounding while I draw little patterns on his skin. His pectoral muscle twitches every so often, making me giggle.

"I'm sorry we didn't quite make it to the bed," he says, though there really isn't a hint of remorse in his tone.

"Next time," I answer flippantly, and he stiffens.

I look up at him, propping my chin up with my hands while he stares at the ceiling.

"What changed?" he asks. "I fully expected this to be another torture session. Why did this happen?"

I shrug, squirming up a little nuzzle into his neck. "I started thinking about it, really thinking about it, the past few days, and on the way here, I realized that I do to you what Stefan does to me. And I shouldn't, because I care about you."

"Hm," is his only response for a whole three seconds. "And the fact that you were extremely jealous."

"Shut up."

* * *

><p>The car ride back to Mystic Falls is pretty smooth. It's warmed up, so the roads are clearer, and Damon doesn't dare stop to pick up anyone on the side of the road. I badger him intermittently about where he'd planned on taking me anyway, but he doesn't answer for a long while.<p>

"Niagara Falls," he finally admits. "You've never been there before, and there are tons of haunted houses to make you jump into my arms."

"Pf, after everything, I'm not scared of haunted – AH! You almost hit that fox!"

I winced as the residual pain from the night and morning shoots through me after he swerved. I fall over into his shoulder and close my eyes.

"Everything hurts," I pout.

"Should've taken my blood. Would have cleared everything up."

I haul myself off of him and examine my reflection in the visor mirror. There's an elaborate pattern of marks all over my neck, and I know that there are at least two different bite marks hidden beneath my clothes.

"Your blood would have gotten rid of the marks, and the point is that I want to keep them."

"You're gonna get me staked," he grumbles, staring ahead at the road.

I slide back over to him and kiss his neck. "I just wish yours would have stayed longer... What if I just worked on your neck the whole way back home?"

"Then I'd pull over and make love to you in the back seat until you pass out," he answers matter-of-factly.

"That doesn't sound like much of a -"

I'm interrupted by my phone ringing. A quick glance at the screen shows that it's Stefan calling. Crap.

"Who is it?" Damon asks through gritted teeth.

I hesitate for all of a second before tossing the hand set into the back seat.

"No one important. Now, what were you going to do to me in the backseat?"


End file.
